SNOWDRIFT
by Daurmith
Summary: Rebecca is in deep trouble.


TITLE: Snowdrift  
AUTHOR: Daurmith (daurmith@yahoo.com)  
CATEGORY: Adventure/Angst  
RATING: G  
SUMMARY: Rebecca, alone, in deep trouble.  
DISCLAIMER: Rebecca Fogg belongs to the Talisman people. Erasmus too. I do not make money out of this, nor should anyone. This is just for fun.  
  
**********  
SNOWDRIFT  
A Vignette  
By Adela Torres, "Daurmith"  
  
  
=Give me a woman for true evil=, thought Rebecca. =And another woman for running away=.  
  
Damn Lady Sofia, with her ladylike poses, and her silly laughter, and her black heart. She had known from the start who Rebecca was, and her mission, and she had played her cards perfectly, perfectly. And Rebecca had no choice but run when she was exposed, with the mission failed and her life in grave danger.  
  
Snow. She hated the snow. She hated winter. She hated running. She hated being scared.  
  
They couldn't be too far away; she had to keep moving, despite the broken bones in her left foot, the deep gash in her right thigh, the bruises on her back and side.  
  
=You've had worse=, she told herself. Only she hadn't. =Keep running=, she ordered herself. Only she couldn't.  
  
They would expect her to try to get to the river and into a boat. And she would, but not immediately. What was it that Phileas used to say...? Oh, yes: "The best way to fool your pursuers is to get behind them."  
  
=All right, then. Let's give it a try.=  
  
She went uphill instead of downhill, taking advantage of every patch of already disturbed snow, and of every rock, log, and bush, to cover her tracks. Thank goodness they weren't using dogs. She found herself panting before long, and her right leg felt stiff and weak. =Move, you weakling=, she chided herself in her most stern Sir Boniface voice. =Move or die=.  
  
Up through the snow, until she reached a white slope that gave her no option but to leave tracks. She stopped and listened for a long, long while, straining to filter the sounds of the wind and the trees from the human sounds of her pursuers.  
  
She could hear nothing.   
  
=Now, wait for a while and double back=, she thought, falling to her knees in the snow. This will never do. She would have to dig a refuge of some sort and gather her strength. With no other tools than her two hands, Rebecca started digging in the fresh snow.  
  
"That's a sloppy piece of work," Erasmus commented by her side. She looked at him through the hair that had fallen over her face.  
  
"I suppose you could do it better," she grunted, sweeping aside fistfuls of snow with hands red and numb with cold. Erasmus raised an eyebrow and tweaked the crease in his tweed trousers.  
  
"Not my job anymore, cousin."  
  
"That's right, because you're dead. So shut up and let me work."  
  
"The entrance will cave in," Erasmus replied, craning his neck to watch her work critically, "and it's too visible from the path. You need to pile snow here to make it look like a natural snowdrift."  
  
"Why, thank you, cousin. You wouldn't happen to have a shovel about your person, apart from all those loads of good advice, now, would you?"  
  
"Sorry," Erasmus shrugged. "You're on your own, Becky."  
  
"Don't call me that. I never could stand it when you were alive, much less now that you're dead."  
  
"Such unfairness," Erasmus said, dusting a snow flake from his jacket. "Father will be so shocked. Our little Rebecca, in such a foul temper."  
  
"Shut up," she said, forcing her arms to move against the numbing cold. "Shut up, shut up, =shut up=."  
  
Erasmus disappeared, and Rebecca stopped digging.  
  
"No," she breathed. "No, Ras, don't. Don't leave me. Come back. I'm sorry. Come back, please."  
  
"This is not such a good idea, Rebecca," Erasmus said, reappearing. "You know, it isn't healthy for you. You're hallucinating."  
  
"I don't care. Just - just keep talking. Please."  
  
Erasmus smiled and took a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it and exhaled a slim plume of smoke. It had no scent.  
  
"How come Phil is not with you?"  
  
"He left the Service," Rebecca said. Her movements were sluggish now.  
  
"Well, that's good. I would simply =hate= to have to watch both my cousin =and= my brother die at the same time," Erasmus said, dropping a tiny speck of gray ash on the snow. The end of the cigarette glowed briefly with an orange light that gave no warmth.  
  
"I'm not going to die," Rebecca mumbled.   
  
"Yes, you are," Erasmus replied evenly. "Look at you. You're freezing to death. Which is ironic, because if it weren't this cold, you would be bleeding to death from that gash in your leg."  
  
"I see you know all about death," Rebecca said, as her movements lost coordination and her breath slowed. She was so sleepy.  
  
"Hey, hey, don't fall asleep now," the voice of Erasmus came from a long distance, and it was a while before Rebecca could make sense of the words.  
  
"Sleep..."  
  
"Yes, but that's the eternal kind, cousin. Come on, keep working. That refuge was starting to look good, it would be a pity not to finish it."  
  
"What do you care?" she said, or maybe she thought it. She wasn't sure that her mouth had moved, but Erasmus seemed to have heard her anyway. He smiled, chuckled, and extinguished his cigarette.  
  
"Me? Not much. Not anymore. I guess I'm filling in for Phileas. That's what he would say, you know."  
  
"Phileas..."  
  
"Yes, dear Phil. Always overworrying. After all, it's not as if he's going to find you all dead and blue under the snow when he finally gets here, now, is it?"  
  
"That's... not going to happen."  
  
"You could have fooled me," Erasmus said dryly. He knelt by her side and patted her hair. She didn't feel it. She felt very little anymore.  
  
"Do you want me to wait for you?" her cousin offered. "Or I could come back later, if you prefer. I'll show you the ropes. Being dead is not as bad as you think. At least one does not feel the cold."  
  
Rebecca didn't answer.  
  
"You know, I would offer you my coat. A gentleman should do at least that," Erasmus said, watching her. "But, well, to tell you the truth, it wouldn't do any good."  
  
For a moment there was no other sound but the wind blowing over the snow.  
  
"I guess that's that, then," Erasmus said aloud. "Poor Phil is going to have a hell of a time finding you here, you know. And he worries so. I guess there's no one left for him to look after, now."  
  
Rebecca's eyelids trembled.  
  
"Don't worry," Erasmus said, settling himself comfortably in the snow and examining the opening of the refuge with mild curiosity. "I'm sure that we will see him very soon."  
  
"We won't," Rebecca said. Erasmus blinked.  
  
"Well! Are we alive, then?"  
  
"No, =we= are not. =I= am. You're dead. Go away, Ras. I mean it this time. Go pester Boniface for a change, and leave me alone." Rebecca was quite sure that the words coming from her blue lips had been an unintelligible mumble, but to her ears they sounded sharp and clear as ice. Erasmus gave a little laugh.  
  
"Dear hard-headed Rebecca! Never in life have I seen a woman so mulish and stubborn. Just like Father, really. So, you're not joining me?"  
  
"Eventually. But not today." Moving slowly and a little jerkily, Rebecca finished the refuge and curled up inside, fumbling inside one of her leather pouches to get to her little stash of dried sausage. Anything to keep her going. Amazingly, she could still talk to Erasmus while chewing the rock-hard meat.  
  
"Go away," she repeated. "If you want to be useful, go tell Phileas where I am."  
  
"Phileas doesn't listen to me," Erasmus said, and his annoyingly cheerful voice was tinged with a little sadness. "He just listens to a nasty parody of me that he made up in his mind and left there to fester." Erasmus paused for a moment; and suddenly he looked very young, and very sad, and very dead.  
  
"I never blamed him, Rebecca."  
  
"I know," Rebecca answered, mollified. "I know, Ras. And Phileas will know. You just have to give him time."  
  
"That I cannot give, since I don't have any," Erasmus said, and then suddenly he was in the refuge with her, although there was only room for one, and kissed her brow gently, and Rebecca felt a little warmth caress briefly her skin.  
  
"Goodbye, Rebecca," Erasmus whispered. "Until we meet again. But, please... Be late."  
  
"Goodbye, Ras. I will," Rebecca mumbled, and then he was gone and the pain of her wounds was back. But she welcomed it, as it helped her concentrate on life, not on death.  
  
Outside, the sun drifted towards the horizon, and its slanting rays tinged the snow with orange and pink, and then bounced off the surface to shine over the graceful form of the rapidly approaching =Aurora=, golden and beautiful, a vision of fulfilled promises and hope.  
  
END 


End file.
